


The Flames Outside

by CelestialKestrel



Category: Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Resident Evil 2, Swearing, Zombie Apocalypse, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2019-11-05 05:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17912678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialKestrel/pseuds/CelestialKestrel
Summary: After an unfortunate misunderstanding, you end up thrown into a jail cell in the Racoon Police Department, surrounded by zombies which you only thought existed in horror movies, you try to understand everything that is happening.





	1. Chapter 1

There you were, taking a few to many sips from your wine and ordering whiskey as your friends laughed amongst themselves. If you were honest with yourself, they were most likely only colleagues.

After you tightly grabbed the bottle of whiskey in your hand, and an empty glass in the other, you stepped outside; the fresh air hitting against your skin like the sea crashing against the sand. Sighing out mist into the cold atmosphere, you curled your coat around yourself.

Raccoon City was full of lights blinking, cars honking and shadows of drunk people passing by into the night chattering loudly.

You poured a few drops of whiskey into the clear glass and took a few healthy gulps from it. At this point, your vision was getting blurry from drinking so much; usually, you didn't get this intoxicated, but your nerves were getting the better of you.

Inside of the noisy bar, the group you came with kept hollering you over to their table again, which hesitantly, you declined.

Half an hour had passed by, and you were feeling light-headed. Leaning against the outside of the cold wall of the bar, you closed your eyes and licked your cracked lips. After a few moments of silence, an odd sound ripped by your ears. It was a drawn-out breath, the sound of someone in pain. Blinking, you turned your head to the source of the noise, only to see a mid-aged man hunkered down in the shadowed side of the bar, he looked like he had been injured and dried blood was speckled around his pale neck.

"Hey buddy, are you alright?" you asked in concern, as you stepped forward offering out a hand to him.

You presumed he had probably had a few too many, and maybe he got into a fight or something. A repulsive smell filled your nostrils, an overwhelming scent of rotting flesh. Stumbling backwards slightly, you adjusted your slightly foggy vision on the injured fellow. As he turned his head towards you, you could just about make out his face.

It was peeling away, his teeth protruding from the corner of his mouth. You tried to reassure yourself it was just horror makeup, but the smell of decay was telling you another story. This guy couldn't possibly be a zombie right? You were certain you had too much to drink today.

A monstrous growl ripped through his lips, his mouth hanging open as if it had detached from his jaws and you jolted upwards, beginning to run away as quickly as you could. A police officer was nearby the street corner, and instantly you rushed at him blabbering about how you saw a real life zombie.

He was staring at you solemnly, his dark gaze telling you that he wasn't impressed. "You're telling me, that YOU, a drunk, has seen a zombie. Yeah, sure, nice try," he huffed.

"NO! I swear I saw it!" you slurred in frustration.

"You're wasting my time!" He snapped. "If you carry this on, you can tell me about your little story on the way to the police station."

You blinked, furrowing your brow. Sure, you probably did look like a drunken idiot that had just made up a story about seeing a zombie, but you were entirely sure you hadn't imagined that whole ordeal. Then, in your panic, you realised your colleagues were still in the bar. What if that thing had hurt them?

"My friends are where that thing is!" you slurred hurriedly.

The policeman scowled down at you, his eyes glinting underneath the blinking street lamp. "Right, that's it! You're coming with me."

He gripped hold of your arm, dragging you inside of his police car. As he sat inside of it, you carried on asking him to turn the car around to help your friends, but he dismissed your pleading as drunken rambling and chucked you inside one of the cells.

The door clinked behind you as he locked it. "Right then! You can stay here overnight until your sober. Don't try anything stupid!"

His shadow fell through the cell bars, eventually leaving you alone in the cold cell. Sighing you pushed yourself onto one of the beds, wishing you were anywhere else but here. It was the first time you had been placed in custody, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Your stomach was twisting around and making you feel sick with guilt from leaving your work colleagues in the bar when that thing is lurking around outside of it.

Eventually, you blacked out from exhaustion, and due to the amount of alcohol, you decided to ingest in your system. Screaming echoed into your dreams, stirring you awake and carrying on into reality. Rubbing your eyes, you squinted from the dim light hitting your eyes and gazed around the cells.

Across from you, one of the inmates were trying to throw various objects at the person who was in the same cell as him as he growled and snarled, attempting to rip into him.

He had blood staining his neck as if a feral animal had bitten him. The noises that were coming out of his mouth were anything but human.

"What the hell?" you rasped out as you stared on in horror at the creature in the opposite cell to you. The creature darted towards the other inmate as he screamed out for help and what happened next could only be scripted in a horror film.

You felt sick and turned away; tears were stinging your eyes from fear. You had no idea what was happening, and it looked like you were trapped in here, whimpers fell from your lips as you gripped at yourself, trying to comfort yourself. You still had your mobile phone, and you had to ring someone, anyone.

Quickly, you dialled the phone number for your mum, but she wasn't picking up, then you tried everyone else in your contacts. None of them answered.

You curled in on yourself and tightly closed your eyes hoping that this was just some kind of nightmare or horrible prank.

The next day came and went, and things only seemed to get worse, the only person left in the cells was a guy trapped in here like you were, but he was a floor below you in the basement. He was called Ben, but from what he had told you, it sounded like he had been injured. You were only meant to stay in here overnight, but none of the officers had come to collect you. Was everyone already infected? As more time passed, you were becoming more lethargic, hungry and thirsty. It was September the 28th now and there was still no sign of anyone coming to help you and Ben. You had been in here since the 24th and the only food you had was a few breakfast bars you had stuffed into your pockets, and a bottle of leftover whiskey that you took from the bar when you were arrested.

You both passed the time by talking through the thin wooden floor, trying to focus on anything else other than the terrifying sounds echoing from the police station. You both hoped that someone would come down and let you both out, maybe give you some kind of weapon to defend yourselves with. But hours only passed by, and no one else had come in. Soon enough, when you had a nap, you awoke to more screaming, it was probably around 4 am now, the 29th. To be honest, you were surprised you hadn't become one of the zombies yet. You sure felt like one due to how hungry and thirsty you were.

Eventually, the doors to the corridor of the cellars swung open, and gunshots echoed around the halls, shrieks of the creatures resonated around the room and you shakily stood up, gripping hold of your icy jail cell, trying to peer at whoever had managed to make it all of the way down here without getting turned into one of these things.

Out of the shadows, a man strolled into view, bruises and cuts were dotted around his face, and his blonde hair fell over his temples. He was a cop, by the looks of his uniform. He looked to be around your age, a surprise as you were expecting someone older than he was to make it through whatever was happening. "Who are you?" you tiredly croaked.

"I'm Leon S Kennedy; I'm apart of the Raccoon Police Department. I'm searching for survivors," he stated matter of factly.

You leant a little closer into the light, narrowing your eyes from exhaustion. "Could you let me out? I was only meant to stay in here overnight."

Leon huffed and stared at you. "How do I know you're truthful? Although I'm looking for survivors, I'm still a cop, and it's my job to make sure anyone who is in custody stays that way."

A rough but quiet laugh rumbled in your throat. "So, let me get this straight. There are zombies everywhere like it is Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island and I am most likely the only other survivor besides Ben, the guy trapped on the floor below us, and you still won't let me out?" You took a step back and sat slowly down on your bed, running a hand through your hair. "I just want to go home, I don't even know if my family is safe," you muttered trying to choke back sobs.

Leon's once defensive stance softened a little, and he gazed down at you as you placed your head in your hands. Thoughts were rushing through your head, what would happen to you? What if the zombies had already infected everyone in Raccoon city?

"Look," Leon began in a more gentle tone. "I'm just trying to do my job. If I let you out, I don't want you to leave my line of sight. You're still a prisoner. I'll bring you to my lieutenant and see what he says. He was here before I arrived, so I presume he'll know what you were locked up for."

"Fine," you stated tiredly. "What about Ben?"

"The guy in the basement?"

"Yeah."

"Well, the basement is usually used for more dangerous people, but I suppose I could look into it. If he isn't a murderer, I'll consider releasing him," Leon replied huskily as he stepped forward to your cell.

He placed the key in the jail cell door and turned it, unlocking it and freeing you. You stepped outside, keeping your gaze on the floor. Leon watched you and shut the door, then joined your side. "You look pretty pale. There's still some vending machines around if we can get to them. It might make you feel better if you eat something."

You blinked and stared up at him. "Vending machines? You're acting as if we can't leave this place. Didn't you arrive in a car or something?"

Leon fell silent for a few moments, then he spoke. "Most of the exits are blocked off because of a fire. The only way we can leave is going through the library, but I don't know how many zombies are around there. For now, I think it is best if you get something to eat and stay in one of the safe rooms."


	2. Vending Machine Malfunction

Leon lead you outside of the cells and through darkened paths full of flickering lights and moving shadows. As he skulked forward, you lingered behind him, constantly looking behind yourself as he told you about the police department and his lieutenant's name. After ten minutes had gone by, the two of you finally managed to leave into a brightly lit room. Bookcases were dotted around the spacious room, and so were bodies.

Leon placed his handgun back into his pocket and climbed down the ladders, his feet collided with the ground close by some specks of blood and his blue eyes darted up; searching your face. "Come on. It's safe down here; I dealt with all of them before."

You nodded nervously and shimmied down the ladders, rather ungracefully. Shakily, you stepped on to the ground, the overwhelming smell of blood filling your nostrils. Crinkling your face, you turned your attention to Leon as he stared down at you. "Where's your Lieutenant?"

Leon gestured with his head. "He's on the sofa in the Main Hall. He's injured, but I'm hoping if I can find a way out of here, I can take him to the hospital," he explained, a tinge of worry in his tone.

"Injured? Leon, was Marvin bit by one of those... things?" You asked in concern.

"Yeah," Leon replied fidgeting with his jacket. "Yeah, he was."

You gazed down at one of the zombies that were splayed on the floor. "Let's hope he won't turn into one of them."

"Come on; I'll take you to him. There should be the files near where he is resting. He's pretty weak right now, so I'll have a look for your name," Leon stated as he set off walking down the hall.

"Alright," you replied.

Leon halted suddenly, causing you to nearly collide with his back. You blinked swiftly, then looked up at him as he turned to face you. Leon sighed. "I didn't even ask your name, did I?"

"No," you said bluntly.

"Sorry, feel free to introduce yourself," Leon said, a slight warmth to his voice.

You stated your name rather hurriedly, then glanced away from him. Usually, you weren't one for a conversation that involved small talk, and you really hoped that this wouldn't turn into such after you both got to know each other's names. But, alas, it did. Sometimes, you mustered the confidence to answer in kind to what Leon was asking as you travelled towards where his Luitenant was.

After five minutes, you both finally reached the Main Hall. It was a brightly lit spacious room, decorated with an oversized statue, which glimmered from the reflections of the lights that were evenly dotted around the freshly pained walls. It was a strange feeling to know that Marvin, Ben and Leon were most likely the only survivors left in Raccoon City, especially since the police stations Main Hall looked newly refurbished.

Leon quietly walked passed Marvin as he was curled up sleeping on one of the sofas, his breathing was ragged, and whimpers escaped from his throat every time his chest raised. He had a kind face, but he looked tired. You wondered why he decided to stay here? Was it due to him knowing he might be infected?

Papers crumpled behind you as Leon searched through the records that were next to the typewriter. His brow furrowed in concentration as his eyes skimmed over the contents, then he picked up one of the documents. "Here, I found your name and the time you were taken into custody. According to this paper, you were taken in by Elliot Edward at 7:43 pm."

A moment of silence filled the air as Leon gazed down at the paper, then he placed it back on the desk in a neat pile and leant against the counter. A wheeze escaped Marvin's throat, and his eyes fluttered open. "Leon? Is that you?"

Leon turned to him. "Yes, Sir. I found another two survivors. One of them is in the basement. I'll be interrogating him once I've made it down there."

Marvin heaved himself upwards and slumped back on the sofa, his brown eyes flicking over to you. "I remember Edward taking you here," he stated while wincing.

"You do?" you asked.

"Yeah, he said you were talking a bunch of nonsense about zombies infiltrating the city," Marvin said, his breathing heavy. "Due to how you smelt like you had some alcohol, he thought you were spewing nonsense. That was before he started getting residents saying how they had seen them too and before one of our officers was killed on the 24th had been reported to him."

"Why didn't anyone try and get the prisoners out of here if you all knew there was a horror film happening in the city?" you asked, slightly frustrated.

"We had no other choice. Nearly all of the officers had already been killed," Marvin explained as he clutched at his injury. "If we went to the cellars or the basement, we would have risked losing everyone. But we didn't know it was too late."

You remained silent, trying to put yourself in his shoes. He would have had to gather up all of the survivors and stuffed them in here; chances are some of them were already infected while they were sheltered in the Main Hall. "I'm sorry," you stated quietly. "Sorry for raising my voice. I'm just frustrated and scared for my family and friends. I can't imagine what all of the officers had to go through."

Leon glanced at you. "Before I came into your cellar, I heard screaming from one of the other rooms. It was coming from inside of one of the shuttered security rooms. Edward was stuck inside of it with a group of those things. He was killed, I tried to help him but-"

"Leon," Marvin interjected sternly. "It was NOT your fault. You tried your best to save him. The place was chaos even before you got here."

Leon fell silent and then glanced at him again. "What about you? We can't just leave you here. You should be treated, sir."

Marvin stubbornly frowned. "I already told you. I'm staying put. You need to get out of here while you still can."

Leon nodded reluctantly, then turned to you. "Come on. I'll take you to one of the safe rooms. You should eat something, how long were you trapped in that cell for? On your record, it says you should have only been placed in custody overnight for wasting police time."

"I was in there since late September 24th," you replied. "I was living off of some breakfast bars that I usually bring with me to work and a half-empty bottle of whiskey."

You huffed in bewilderment at how crap everything was at this point. By the looks of it, Marvin wouldn't last much longer. You wanted to help him, but he looked like he had his mind made up. You stared at Leon. "Have you talked to Ben yet?"

"No, after you have had something to eat, I'll head down there to see if there is any information I can find out. While I'm searching for a way out, I'd prefer it if you stayed in one of the safe rooms. I don't know why but zombies don't tend to go inside of them," Leon stated.

"But, I want to help you!" you exclaimed. "I can't just sit back and do nothing, while everyone I love could be either dead or in danger. Not after what Marvin did to protect his officers and the remaining residents of Raccoon City."

"Alright, but you will have to bring a weapon. It could be a bat or a plank of wood for now. I don't have another gun you could borrow. Perhaps if we find one, you could use that?" Leon asked.

You nodded, smiling with the satisfaction you managed to convince a law enforcement officer to let you twat zombies in the face with a plank of wood. You supposed it would be good to let your frustrations out, but it would be discomforting to see a live on up close as you did at the bar.

Leon lead you to a small room that had a lock on it. No windows were inside of it, and a bunk bed was shoved in the corner of one of the connected rooms. A lit up vending machine was sat in the edge of the room, and in front of it was a table with a typewriter positioned in the centre.

Leon ran a hand through his hair and sat down on one of the seats, you kicked at the vending machine, but nothing came out to your disappointment. Behind you, Leon huffed in amusement as he watched you flounder around trying to get something out of it. "Even this vending machine doesn't want me to have food," you mumbled as you leant down.

You got hold of your keys from your pocket and began tinkering with the lock on it, and eventually, it clicked open, revealing the colourful variety and assortments of sweets, snacks and drinks.

Sticking your tongue out of the corner of your mouth in determination you began prizing one of the packets of crisps out of the metal hoop that held it in place. Successfully, you grabbed at it and opened the package, beginning to shove your hand in it and grab heaps of the potato-y goodness and placing it ungracefully into your mouth.

Leon watched you, a smile playing on his lips every so often. You were sure he was probably thinking you looked like a squirrel trying to jostle food in your cheeks for the winter. Well, you felt like you probably looked like that, but you were so hungry, you didn't particularly care what the young police officer thought of you.

"You were hungry, huh?" Leon asked in a cocktail of slight concern with a hint of mirth.

You blinked and stared at him, a mouthful of crisps still stuffed into your mouth. "Mm," you managed as you reached for a can of Pepsi.

"So, did you live in Raccoon City then?" Leon asked as he gazed at you.

You gulped your food and nodded. "Yeah, I lived in an apartment not too far from the station. Ironically, I was a ghostwriter, I wrote horror books for a living. Now I'm living in one," you said, trailing off slightly. "What about you?"

"This is my first day on the job as a police officer, I heard there were riots in the city and thought it sounded suspicious they weren't letting anyone in," Leon explained. "I came here to investigate it."

"This," you started in shock. "This is your first day?"

"Yeah."

"How shit is that?" you asked in empathy.

"It is, it's really shit. But, I am hoping by being here I might be able to find survivors and help people. After all, it is still my job, and besides Marvin, I think I am the only officer left in Raccoon City."

"You think?" you asked.

"Yeah."


	3. Stumbling in the Dark

Eventually, you had somehow drifted off to sleep, not realising how exhausted you were after the past few days spent in the cellar had come and gone. Every part of your body felt like it was made of cracked clay, ready to crumble into pieces at any moment.

Even as you slept, your dreams were full of the flickering faces of your family and friends, gazing menacingly at you through the foggy windows, their faces covered with crimson; their unhinged jaws were salivating red liquid.

Grunts clawed their way through your dry throat, breathing out into the atmosphere. Then something shifted beside you and warmth fell over your shoulders, something lifted you, placing you somewhere soft. The flickering lights above you deterred you from your slumber, and your eyelids flickered slowly open.

You gazed around, gripping hold of the soft fabric below you. Shifting your weight, you looked down at your new surroundings. You were sure you hadn't fallen asleep on the bed, you knocked out on the raggy couch.

"Hey," a soft voice called, piercing through your spinning mind. "Hey!"

Jumping, you spun around, nearly falling off of the bedside. "What the hell?" you slurred tiredly, you gazed up and saw the police officer that you bumped into a few hours ago.

To be honest, you nearly forgot where you were, a part of your brain thought you were crashing at one of your friends' apartments, not at a zombie apocalypse bunker. "Leon... Sorry, I wasn't fully awake."

Leon shook his head, smiling. "Don't worry about it. We should get a move on and try and find an exit."

"What about Ben?" you asked crankily.

Leon's lips fell into a sharp line; a small huff of thought escaped his mouth. "Well, I suppose we will have to find a way to get down there. But, Lieutenant Marvin needs urgent care."

"Leon, look at it realistically, Marvin is not going to take your offer of leaving. He already stated that he has no interest in going anywhere, besides, where would we go? How could we treat someone that is infected?" you asked, concern coating your hoarse throat.

A moment of silence fell over the both of you, then Leon nodded. "I know, but... I still want to try."

"Alright, if you insist. I'll try and help you any way I can, okay?"

Leon nodded once. "Fine, it's a deal. But once we all get out of this mess, I'll be keeping an eye on you."

Frowning, you stood up and stared at him. "What do you mean 'keeping an eye'?"

"Well someone has to make sure you don't get any more disorderly conducts," Leon stated matter of factly. "Or bump into more zombies."

"Right..." you huffed in amusement.

You shifted off of the bed, wrinkling your nose. "This place smells like crap," you stated in agitation. "And so do I, are there any sinks or showers here?"

"We can worry about getting clean after we have found an exit," Leon stated.

"Yes, sir," you replied in irritation if there was one thing you hated; it was being drenched in sweat, blood and mud.

Leon gripped your wrist, dragging you outside of the 'safe room', as dubbed by your new acquaintance. Eventually, after wading your way through decaying bodies and the occasional zombie, you both came to a stop outside in the pouring rain.

As expected everything was blocked off, the smell of smoke surrounding you both. Placing your sleeves over your nose and mouth, you began coughing. "What are you looking for?"

Leon glanced back at you, the fog covering his face. "A way out, Claire gave me a key. I don't know what it's for though."

"Claire? Who's Claire? I thought you were the only other police officer."

"No, she's not a police officer, her brother Chris is though. She is trying to uncover things about Raccoon City and get to the bottom of what is happening," Leon stated as he placed the key in the door opposite from where you were stood.

His expression said everything you needed to know.

No luck.

After another half an hour, you trailed back inside, searching aimlessly around, until you both found yourself in a dark corridor full of moving shadows. Leon placed his arm in front of you, raising his knife with his spare hand.

A tangled flesh coloured creature crawled out of the darkness on all fours, an oversized lizard-like tongue trailing behind it. It raised its head, almost analysing the two of you for a moment, then like a bolt of lightning, it darted toward you both.

Leon slashed at it a few times, then grabbed hold of his handgun with both of his hands, firing bullets into its neck, head and stomach as it reared towards you both. Splatters of blood landed on your face, making tracks down your cheeks. The room fell silent as the monster landed on its stomach a few inches away from Leon's feet.

"What the fuck was that?" Leon huffed out in horror.

Your body was shaking uncontrollably as you stared down at it. "Did that thing used to be a human? Are there different types of these things?"

Leon shook his head in confusion. "I don't know, but whatever it was, it is dead now." He turned his head towards you, his blue eyes full of worry. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I think so," you croaked.

"Come on," Leon said gently, raising his gloved hand to you. "Let's go."

You nodded and took his offered hand, gripping it for support as you both stumbled aimlessly around in the dark.


End file.
